Edge of Heart
by jiko29
Summary: A notice of Engagement turns Elsa's World upside down. In the wake of an arranged marriage, she goes on a quest to rid the Royal family of the curse once and for all... but as her journey begins, what dark mysteries lie at the origin of her powers?
1. Chapter 1: Touch of Truth

Elsa dropped the tome in frustration, reclining back in her chair to rub her eyes. She's scoured every book in the town and castle library with no luck. Three weeks earlier, she'd gotten a notice of engagement—_her_ engagement. An arranged marriage that her parents had agreed on when she was born. Not that anyone had mentioned this to her of course, and now she was preparing for the arrival of her future husband, a gallant prince from the southern continent.

Elsa snorted, opening her eyes. A gallant prince… not that she needed one, but a queen could not rule alone forever. Would a Southern Prince even make it through an Arendelle winter? With a sigh, she rose from the chair surrounded by piles of ancient and newer books. It had taken her a week of freaking out, inadvertently creating raging Thanksgiving ice storm that her subjects patiently put up with before she'd confided the news to Anna.

Her sister had the remarkable advice of inviting the Prince for a visit to put Elsa's fears to rest. Either he could handle her, curse and all; or not—in which case, politics aside, any considerate person could find another person to marry. Plus, who wants to marry someone they've never met? Anna really was remarkable under her impulsive and sometimes scatter-brained behavior, and life with Kristoff seemed to be really good at grounding her. Elsa was proud to have a younger sister like her.

Back to matters at hand, she'd spent over a week pouring through endless books for some explanation or "cure" for her curse. Not for herself, she had come to terms with her powers and anyone who had issue with that an issue with her—but with the prospect of a husband meant heirs… children; and she couldn't bear the thought of someone having to relive her struggles. Elsa was determined to find some scrap of hope that she could be the last in the Arendelle line with the curse.

She made one last trip through the castle library, re-reading countless titles of old books as she passed each section.

"Elsa!" Anna cried from the far end of the library. "Elsa! Are you in here?"

Elsa made her way to the old records aisle, following the sound of Anna's dust induced coughing.

"Anna?" Elsa found her sister covered in dust under a pile of old manuscripts and scrolls.

"I can't move." Anna grinned sheepishly. "I don't want to damage anything."

With some exasperation, Elsa gingerly pulled the pile apart so Anna could stand up.

"What are you doing here, Anna, I thought you'd be preparing for the ball. The Prince will arrive in a week."

"Well I was—er, well I did; but then I had this thought about this time I was in the library and I found something that I thought was interesting, but it didn't occur to me at the time—but then I thought you'd be in here, so I could find it and show it to you."

"Okay…" Elsa started shelving the manuscripts. "What is "it"?"

"Ta~da!" Anna pulled a large scroll box out of the pile, proudly turning it so Elsa could see the gold-plated label.

"The Arendelle Royal Family Tree?" Elsa quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, I figured, since the curse is in the family line, maybe this would have some sort of… I don't know what kind of clue, you know?"

"Maybe." Elsa smiled, grateful for her thoughtfulness. "Let's open it up anyway, I'm done researching for today."

Anna hopped excitedly and sprinted to the oak table in the library center. She unbuckled the scroll box and gently unrolled the aging scroll on the table, setting books at the corners to hold it open.

The tree went back over 400 years, the generations intricately woven together with miniature portraits of the royal family. At the bottom where Anna and Elsa's names without portraits, probably added when they were born. Elsa made a mental note to have their portraits taken for the tree as she browsed up the line. A curious pattern began to emerge as she studied her family's lineage.

Every generation or two, the first born child did not marry or have children, and if they were the only heir of that generation, a cousin or close relative succeeded to the throne. Even in one instance where there where twins, neither had an heir. Then, Elsa noticed a small detail next to each portrait that had no successors, a small snowflake in silver ink.

The realization struck her like lightning. These members of the family that spent their lives alone, they were those that inherited the curse. Not a in a single instance did those with a snowflake next to their picture have a child, the next line of succession was a nephew or cousin or aunt…

"Elsa?" Anna was looking at her intently. "Elsa, what's wrong?"

She cleared her throat. "Don't you see the pattern? No one with the curse in our family has gotten married or has had children. They were alone."

Anna studied the family tree for a moment and then took a deep breath. "So what? That's the past! You're not alone Elsa, you've got me—and you've figured out your powers, so it's not a problem!"

"Oh Anna." Elsa wished she could feel reassured. They hadn't beaten the curse, but mastered her powers. Maybe… If they could do that, then there may be a chance they could find a way to break the curse for good, before another generation suffered.

"We have to find a way to break the curse forever; not just for us, but for future generations."

"Wow." Anna ran her hand through her bangs. "Is that really what you want, Elsa?"

Elsa smiled at her sister. "Anna, I love you; and I know without you I'd never learn to control my powers, but when I think about another person having to go through what we did; I can't bear the responsibility. I have to try."

"I understand. I think it's a noble quest, and I'm rooting for you!" Anna glanced around at the stacks of books. "So… any progress yet?"

"None."

"Kristoff said there's a large monastery in the Eastern Mountains that has an extensive library, with books even older than anything we have in the castle. Maybe there could be something more there."

"That's a great idea!" Elsa hugged Anna. "Thank you; I'll send them a letter by pigeon and see if they can help; any scrap of information about how the curse started might help!"

Francis wove through the ancient stone corridors, sandaled feet clacking against the cobblestone as monks in grey and brown robes passed by. As a junior monk, he should have better timing skills for making lessons with the Grand Master Abbot—but his love of books had once again consumed him, and for the umpteenth time this month, he was late to his Saturday Apprenticeship.

He rounded the last corner and bolted for the tower stairs, lifting his frock dangerously high to leap up[ the stairs three at a time, heart racing as the nones bell began to chime—a gong-like sound that resonated and grew as he wound his way up the tower. He burst through the heaven oak door to the Abbot's chambers as the final; crescendo of the bell faded.

Grand Master Abbot Belgr was a man with long wispy hair that crowned a marvelously shiny bald head with an equally long beard to match that village girls loved to plait in the spring. Belgr had the stern face of a miser but the soulful heart of a saint. His sharp eyes, however, were as deadly as any daggers ever forged, and they were currently piercing Francis.

"Ah!" Francis dropped his robe, trying to catch a fleeting gasp of air "Sorry… library… Chronicles… Faust…"

"How uncommonly." The Abbot coughed. "Late yet again; how am I to trust you as the successor of this Monastery when I cannot even trust you to be on time to learn the secrets of the Fjord monks. Is it a thirst for knowledge or a lust of books that motivate you, Junior Monk?"

"Uh…" Francis glanced around the room, avoiding the imposing figure. "Both?"

"I see." Abbot Belgr sank into the old leather chair by the fireplace and Francis scrambled to stoke the fire for his Master.

"I suppose," the old monk pulled a small red leather journal from his inner robes. "In light of that, this is the perfect day to discuss this."

Francis glanced from the rejuvenated fire. "So, I'm not in trouble?"

"If you have to ask," a glint of mischief flashed in the wise eyes. "Then yes, you are—yet I haven't decided on your punishment."

Francis' heart fell.

"Here." He was handed the leather journal. "Today the only time limit to our lesson is the fire. You will keep it stoked and read this to me. It is a dark, sad tale—yet it is one that we must know; for we're the only ones who remember and one day we may need to share this knowledge."

Francis glanced at the worn out book in his hands, the edges frayed and the leather cracked, almost unrecognizable as leather. He could feel a weak hum of magic covering the surface of the book. A preservation spell? So this was an original, very old book. There were very few such volumes in the library, mostly books which held forgotten secrets or had a value as an original— his curiosity was thoroughly piqued.

Grand Master Belgr lay an aged hand across Francis'. "Before you open this book; let me caution you… you must not speak of its contents to anyone nor ever have it transcribed. Do you understand?"

Francis nodded, slightly confused. What could lay in this journal that the Abbot would be so secretive about? Was it a journal that had belonged to a famous Grand Master Monk or King? The Abbot was very serious about this, so Francis knew whatever he held was important; and he wouldn't let his master down.

"You may read it now." The Abbot sat back in his chair, closing his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2: Of Letters

My name is Freja, I don't recall my last name, if I ever had one. I was found by the fae, wandering alone in the forest as a small child. I grew up cradled by the arms of magic, oblivious to the world of man.

The forest I grew up in was full of spring and light, an eternal spring created by the fae who lived there. The fairy who raised me, with golden eyes and fiery hair, was named Alva. It wasn't hard to guess from my raven hair and green eyes that we weren't related, and even if I can't recall how I came to be in Alva's care, I knew we were different but I loved her all the same.

On the eve of my sixteenth birthday, I was enjoying a stroll through the woods, joining in the larks' song and surrounded by my friends, the creatures of the forest, when I came across something unusual. A white horse by the river. I left my friends to investigate the stranger. He was a handsome animal with gold gilt bridle and saddle. As I traced the fine etchings, I felt a strange sensation of being watched. I was about to ask the horse if he had a friend when a man emerged from the bushes, bow and arrow in hand.

He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. His chiseled features were strengthened by a wild Auburn mess of hair. His broad shoulders were covered in a violet cloak with a silver thistle pin holding it in place. His bright blue eyes stared back at me with the same awe and surprise I felt. All I could do was clutch to his horse's saddle to keep standing within his visage.

* * *

><p>Francis stopped reading and balked at Grand Master Abbot Belgr.<p>

"Sir… is this my punishment? Some sort of joke I don't understand? There is little value in a girl's diary—even if it's quite old."

The wise old monk simply grinned. "Read on."

* * *

><p>Elsa set down the pen. For the fourteenth time, she glanced out the study window hoping to catch a glimpse of grey wings with a reply from the abbey. Again, an empty sky met her gaze, void of even clouds. Patience was a virtue… her mantra began again as she skimmed over the letter on the desk. All it lacked was her royal signature. She neatly folded it and slipped it into an envelope.<p>

A flutter of feather caught her attention, and she glanced hopefully to the window—but instead of a pigeon lighting atop the message tower, a large raven sat on the windowsill. Its gleaming yellow eyes seem to measure her as it tilted its head. She stared back, wondering if the creature was ill.

With a loud screech, the raven flew into the room, circling the ceiling. Startled, Elsa covered her face and called for the guards. The raven dove towards her with its claws extended out and she could feel the icicles itching in her hands to be released. She screamed, diving to the floor and covering her head. A strong breeze pulled at her hair at the passing of velvet feathers, but no pain from razor claws or beak. She glanced up from the floor as the guards and Anna burst into the room, but there was nothing save a black feather on her shoulder to give any credit to what just happened.

"Elsa—"Anna bent down to help her up. "What happened? We heard you scream."

She trembled against Anna, clutching a frozen hand to her chest so not to touch her. She couldn't form a thought, much less words to explain why she felt so terrified of the raven. The eyes, something in its eyes… It could've torn her to shreds, but it didn't. She should feel relieved, not even more scared.

With a lack of response, Anna cleared her throat and addressed one of the guards. "I'll take the queen to her room. Have someone bring some soup and bread."

The guards gave an affirmative answer, and Elsa let her sister lead her down the hallways to her room. Once they were alone, Anna let her go, a questioning expression on her face as she bit back words.

"I don't know what to say." Elsa sank into the chair by the fireplace. "I was finishing a letter—and the largest raven I've ever seen appeared on the windowsill. There was something—oh, Anna, it was like something from a nightmare… and I thought it was going to rip me apart."

Her sister chewed on her lip for a minute, then sat on the bed. "It's the middle of a sunny day, and we never see crows or anything around the castle-"

"Yes, I know that." Elsa snapped. "I know how illogical it sounds—but I know what happened!"

She showed Anna the feather.

"Okay…" Anna took the feather. "That looks normal to me… so maybe there was a crow or a raven or something… but that's no so scary. Besides, the window was shut. It's not like it could get you."

"What?" Elsa froze.

"I said it's okay, it couldn't get you through the window?"

"But the window was…" Elsa stared at the feather in Anna's hand, a loss for words as she analyzed what just happened—trying to find some gap to explain why it wasn't true.

Anna moved over to the chair, concern in her eyes as she felt Elsa's forehead. "Are you all right? You feel a little flushed. I know you've been working really hard trying to figure out the curse and everything… but you need your rest, too."

"No, you're right." Elsa did feel exhausted. "I haven't slept much since inviting the prince to visit. Perhaps I was just overtired—perhaps it was all a daydream."

"Maybe." Anna shrugged. "You've got to take better care of yourself though! Eat some soup and promise me you'll try to take the afternoon off—no stress!"

Elsa laughed. "I'll try."

Anna stood up with a satisfied grin. "Oh, before I forget—this just came for you."

Elsa glanced at the envelope in Anna's hand. It had the Fjord Monastery seal! She graciously took the letter and set it on the arm of the chair. "Thank you Anna. I'll read it tomorrow after I rest. I think I'll go take a bath before I eat."

"Great—well I'll go check on your soup, and let me know if you need anything at all!" Anna waved vigorously as she left the room.

'I will." Elsa smiled as her sister exited.

She sat and counted to ten, her heart thrumming in her chest. Certain Anna had really gone, she tore open the envelope to reveal a well-written short note.

"We look forward to seeing you at our humble monastery. We may not have the answers you seek; but we are at your service, your majesty. - Grand Master Abbot Belgr."

* * *

><p>As Elsa was reading her long awaited message, another lonely soul was receiving an unexpected letter, delivered via raven. It landed gently on a boulder in front of a cave that overlook the sea on the Western cliffs of the Southern Isles.<p>

"_Why, hello, my pet._" A silky voice wafted from the darkness of the cave. "_What have you brought me?_"

A tendril of green mist swirled from the cave opening and surrounded the raven, softly prying an unsealed envelope from its beak. The letter drifted into the cave on the green mist and the raven hopped impatiently as the ink-written words were read. A low rumbling cackle reverberated in the bowels of the cave, growing louder and morphing into hysterical laughter as storm clouds began to gather and the sea became choppy, spraying into the cave and drenching the raven.

Insulted, it cawed loudly and pecked at the rock. The laughter immediately subsided and before the raven had time to regret its insolence, a slender pale hand extended from the cave shadows.

"_Apologies, my pet. I have not had such good news in so long._"

The raven hopped and bowed to the beckoning hand.

"_Yes_." The voice purred. "_You did well. Now, there is work to be done._"


	3. Chapter 3: Rolling in the Deep

His name is Randolf, he tells me he is a Prince. I neither know nor care what that means; the days he comes to the forest are the happiest I've ever known. I've nearly completed this book he gave me to write down my feelings and thoughts; he's shown me so many things—what joy love brings to the soul. I've never known such a feeling. Tonight I will muster the courage to finally tell Alva how I have spent my summer.

As she loves me like a mother, surely she'll bless our matrimony. Oh, I cannot wait to see Randolf again and tell him everything.

* * *

><p>Francis rubbed his temples. This really was too much—he had made it barely half way through the accursed diary and he was thanking the Gods for his oath to celibacy. If this is what women were made of, he wanted absolutely no part of this fluffy romance.<p>

He glanced over at Master Belgr, who sat comfortably in his chair with his eyes closed. Whether it was early night or early morning, was hard to say- but Francis knew the old monk too well to mistake him for being asleep. With a groan, he stoked the fire and added another log. Four more to go. Perhaps if he read slower, this torture may end without his brain leaking from his ears.

An urgent knock pounded on the door. "Master Belgr! Master Belgr! We've got a visitor!"

"Ah." The Abbot stretched, his old bones cracking as he stood. "I was hoping for a quicker arrival, but at least we can skip the rest of the lovey-dovey bits and get to the good stuff now."

* * *

><p>"ELSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"<p>

Anna leaned over the balcony as far as she could, squinting to see the harbor in the last rays of sunlight.

"We've looked everywhere!" Kristoff and Olaf entered the Queen's chambers.

Olaf trotted to sit by Anna, who slumped against the railing. "Where could she have gone?"

"I don't know." Anna shook her head. "She had this whole freak-pout about a big bird or something—and then she was going to rest… and…. and…"

"Hey." Kristoff sat next to Anna's other side. "It's okay, she probably went out for fresh air. You know how she likes to be alone sometimes."

"Oh yea!" Olaf nodded vigorously. "Like that time she froze summer and made this big marshmallow giant to kick us out of her ice castle….."

Anna's look prompted a moment of silence. Kristoff was making "stop it" motions behind her head.

Olaf coughed. "All I'm saying is she can be a bit of an introvert. I'm sure she'll be back before dark; no problem!"

"I wouldn't be so sure…" Anna glanced back at the setting sun. "The last rays of light are almost gone."

"Please don't worry Anna." Kristoff gently held her chin. "She'll be okay. If she'd not back by morning, we'll find her."

Olaf glanced between the two as Anna fell into Kristoff.

"Ooh! Group hug!" Olaf sighed happily and squeezed them.

"Princess Anna!" a guard burst through the door.

"What is it, have you found my sister!?"

"No, milady—the prince is arriving in the morning; a note was just delivered to the gate!"

"WHAT?!"

"Oh my God; what?!" Olaf ran out the door. "We need to order extra crème fraiche! I'm not dressed for company!"

"Olaf—"Anna reached for the door, but Kristoff pulled her back.

"Let him go. We'll clean up the mess later."

"I don't understand—how could he be coming this early? He's not due for four more days!"

"Relax, Anna; it'll be okay. I'll be right here to help you with whatever you need."

"Oh, Kristoff. Thank you." Anna took a deep breath. "Now, we need a plan…"

* * *

><p>Elsa dismounted her horse and gazed at the tall walls surrounding the Fjord Monastery. The gate creaked slowly open, massive pine timbers bolted together with iron, the abbey felt more of a fortress than a sanctuary. As the doors slowly opened to a bare courtyard, the rain that had sprinkled throughout most of her journey opened into a torrential rain. She pulled back into her cowl, leaning against her horse. She had ride as fast as she could nearly all night, and exhaustion was catching up to her.<p>

"Milady?" a voice and a shadow became visible through the rain. "Your Majesty?"

She swayed forward and felt something warm catch her weight before everything went black.

* * *

><p>The smell of old books, the sound of a crackling fire, and muffled voices… Elsa forced her heavy eyelids open.<p>

"Oh! She's awake!" A monk about her age with cropped brown hair and green eyes leaned towards her. "How do you feel milady?"

"Personal space, Francis." An elderly voice chided gently.

"Oh, sorry. I'll go get the oatmeal!"

The young man ran off to open the door, a burst of sunlight blinding Elsa.

"Sorry about young Francis." The elderly voice came closer as she blinked away the sunspots. "He found your arrival quite exciting. He's been on pins and needles as you slept."

"Thank you for your hospitality. Are you Grand Master Abbot Belgr?"

"I am; and you are here looking for answers about the royal family curse."

"Yes." Elsa sat up, noticing she was in a tick night robe instead of her gown. A blush crept up into her cheeks. She coughed gently, trying to squelch the urge to ask about her clothes.

"Oh, Nina the cook, has your gown. In case you were concerned, she also helped you into dry clothes."

"T-Thank you." Elsa smiled gratefully at the old monk.

"Now." He sat on the edge of the bed, a red leather journal resting on his knee. "Shall we get down to business?"


	4. Chapter 4: All That Glitters

I hardly know what to write. I feel as a tree when split by lightning. I have been forbidden from seeing Randolf. Alva was quite upset when I told her of him and our love. I don't understand. Is it so wrong to love a man? Is it really not allowed for the fae to love humans? Why should we fear them? Why should we avoid them? Randolf is my heart, he makes me happy and has shown me nothing except the best of what man can be. I love him, I want to grow old as he will and live our lives together.

I think tomorrow, I will defy my mother. I have thought about it long and hard and I feel I am right. I will meet him in the usual place, and I will beg him to elope. Leaving my forest will make me as human as he, Alva has always warned me against it—and if we're both human, nothing would make me happier. We'll be together and that's all that matters.

* * *

><p>"Everything you want to know about the origin of the curse is in this book." Grand Master Abbot Belgr handed the ancient book to Elsa. "I don't know how much knowing this tale will help you with learning how to abolish it; but this is all we can give."<p>

Elsa clutched the book to her chest. "Thank you. Anything, any scrap of information will help; I'm sure. You've been very gracious."

The old man sniffed. "We have only done as we should. There is one thing, your majesty—the book cannot leave this tower. There are things in this book that are never meant to again see the light of day."

"What do you mean—"

"Oatmeal!" the young monk named Francis burst through the door. "I hope you like it sweetened with dates, milady—er, your Queenship."

"Thank you, I am not sure. I have never had it prepared that way." Elsa's nose twitched at the warm, sweet smell coming from the clay bowl in the monk's hands.

"Oh, you will like it, I promise, your highness. Nina's a great, talented chef."

"You exaggerate, Francis." Abbot Belgr coughed with amusement. "But she does cook with love, and that always makes food taste better."

Elsa accepted the oatmeal from the young monk and the book caught his eye.

"Oh, the diary—"

"It's all right, Francis." The old monk stood up and shuffled towards his chair. "The young queen and I were just discussing the safe-keeping on the book. Francis is its new guardian, so he will assuredly see that it doesn't leave this abbey."

The Grand Master Abbot sank into his chair. "Francis, my boy, why don't you summarize what we've learned from this book so far while the queen breaks fast?"

* * *

><p>"Okay, okay, okay, okay…" Anna ran down the hallway, checking that everything was clean and in order.<p>

"Wow, the palace cleans up nice." Olaf hummed as he trailed behind her.

"Olaf!" Anna checked her hair. "You need to keep out of sight—we need to ease the Prince into life here at Arendelle."

Kristoff entered the hallway, struggling to adjust his cravat. "Yeah, why don't you go keep Sven company in the stable? This sure is a whole lot of trouble to impress—what's this guy's name again?"

"Prince Stig Rusul Sala." Anna helped straighten his cravat and dusted off the shoulder on Kristoff's jacket.

"That is one awful name."

The bugles began to sound, and Anna swallowed her retort and ran to the castle doors. "Positions! Positions! Open the gates!"

Kristoff stiffly stood beside her as the gates pulled open. She had a hard time keeping the butterflies down and not bouncing in anticipation. She felt Kristoff's fingers lace through hers and give a gently, heartening squeeze.

"It will be all right. I'm sure he's a great guy."

"I wish Elsa was here…"

"I promise, as soon as I can take off this cravat, I will go find her."

She squeezed his hand back, feeling a little reassured as a lone horse and rider passed through the gates. Anna found it a little odd that the prince rode without an entourage, but maybe southern continent people did things differently. She shouldn't judge. Right, God this was as slow and drawn out as anything could be. Hurry up horsey, hurry up…

She finally got a good look at the Prince. He was handsome, with dark, olive skin and hazel eyes. His hair was hidden beneath a large turquoise turban ornately draped in pearls pinned into the wrappings by gold pins shaped like birds. The gold theme threaded through a decorative silk jacket down to shimmering pants and gold and ruby inlaid shoes.

"Whoa." Anne was blinded by his brilliance. "We should've brought out more tapestries. We'll look like paupers."

"Ex Nay." Kristoff hissed as the Prince dismounted.

"Princess!" the visitor bowed deeply, kissing Anna's hand.

"Uh-oh ho, um, Prince Stig Rusul Sala… pleasure to meet you."

"Please, soon we will be family; call me Stig as my brothers do."

"You don't have twelve older brothers by chance, do you?"

Prince Stig laughed heartily, revealing white teeth and adorable dimples. "No, no—just four. I must say, your majesty—rumors of your beauty have spread far, but fall too short of standing before your glory."

"Oh!" Anna laughed, flustered. "Well, um thank you… a girl always like to hear she's pretty—I'm Anna, uh, Elsa's younger—"

"Taken—"Kristoff glared over her shoulder.

"Er—sister." Anna shrugged, trying not to blush too hard.

"Ah, Princess Anna!" Prince Stig released her hand, bowing deeply again. "My apologies—I was expecting to be greeted by my betrothed… and I was so struck by your beauty I cannot imagine that two creatures as lovely live under the same roof."

"Oh ho ho! Such a charmer." Anna gave up trying not to blush. "Well, um, let's start the tour… and um, Elsa will be joining us later… she's—er, really, super excited to meet you... but, um, she's … um, indisposed… at the moment?"

She could still feel Kristoff glaring.

"Well, yeah! So, okay, Prince um, Stig—let's start the tour! Follow me!"


	5. Chapter 5: Pomp and Circumstance

Elsa shut the leather book. "I don't understand…. If they were so in love… what happened? What does this romance between a Prince Randolf and a fae girl named Freja have to do with Arendelle or my family curse?"

She again thumbed through the pages following the last entry where Freja seemed determined to elope. "There's nothing here. It makes no sense."

The Grand Master Abbot nodded. "It does appear a dead end. Please give the book back to Francis."

Confused and frustrated, Elsa handed the book back to the young monk.

"Does the name Randolf mean nothing to you, my young queen?" Abbot Belgr lit a pipe, settling into his chair. "Think hard now, before you answer."

"Randolf…. Prince Randolf…" she frowned, trying to remember the paths up the ancient family tree Anna had unearthed in the library. Towards the top of the tree had been a Rathulf, but that's as close as she could remember.

"One of our ancestors was named Rathulf… I think he was the first recorded family member with the curse."

"Rathulf…" Abbot Belgr puffed on his pipe. "That's awfully close; I wonder… was that about the time it was common to name an heir from both parents names… say, if your mother's name was Pura, and you were the son of Randolf…"

"That is quite an assumption, Grand Master Abbot." Elsa scoffed.

"Based on that information alone, yes… I suppose so. However, if that was the final piece of an ancient puzzle… then you can trace your lineage back further than recorded history. Now, Francis. You may show her."

"Show me what?" Elsa glanced at the young monk who clutched the diary, bashfully avoiding eye contact.

"T-There's a spell on this book, older than even the preservation spell. Few of the order have the ability to detect magic, let alone unlock fae script… it's why Master Belgr took me on as his apprentice… the second half of this book is…."

"Go on, my boy." The abbot prompted gently.

"The one she calls Alva transcribed everything that happened after Freja abandoned the diary- within an inch of her dying breath and sealed it with her magic, as most fae script is sealed to keep their secrets hidden. It is, in fact, a sad tale as the Grand Master Abbot promised… and something I would not care to tell anyone; but I can show it to you, if you really want to see it."

Elsa laid her hand gently on his white knuckles. "I don't want to see it; I need to see it. For the future of my family and my people. The curse needs to end now."

Francis glanced up to meet her eyes and then looked away. "As you wish, my lady."

His hands began to tremble against the book, and the pages began to glow with a golden light. "This is always the worst part." He mumbled as the diary began to hum.

The world shifted and light and dark inverted as the humming book began to sing—a horrible, beautiful sound that raked Elsa's ears and clenched at her heart. Tears fell freely down her cheeks as the world collapsed upon itself.

* * *

><p>Alva, a tall and beautiful creature with copper hair, crystalline wings, and molten eyes watched from her perch on the ancient beech that separated the fae kingdom from the human forest as her only daughter rushed to meet her fate.<p>

"My Queen." Sephera landed on the branch below. "You cannot let her go. You know what will happen to her with prolonged separation from majick. It is a death sentence. The humans will kill her as soon as they know what she is."

"Perhaps." Alva's heart was heavy. "Freja has a will of her own; and this is her decision. I will hope that her fate is lighter than the breaking of my heart."

"On my honor, I will watch after her." Sephera saluted. "I will keep her safe."

"Go, with my blessing." Alva turned as Freja's prince became visible in the clearing they always met in.

* * *

><p>"Randolf!" Freja's heart leapt in her chest at the sight of her beloved.<p>

His smile erased all her worries, and she leapt into his arms.

"Whoa." He laughed. "Easy, my butterfly. What has you so excited today?"

She held on to him, not trusting her legs to keep her standing. "I'm ready, Randolf! About your question last week… I have my answer: yes!"

"You'll marry me?" Randolf ran his hands across her cheeks. "Truly, beloved? Your family approved? Where are they, I am so eager to—"

"No." Freja held his hands to her face. "My mother refused to bless our union. I have decided to run away with you, my love."

"Freja—"

"Please do not try to dissuade me! If you love me even an iota of how much I love you—just take me away from here!"

"My darling, mystery maiden—I love you more than the sea adores the moon. I only wish I knew more about you and your family."

"I promise, my beloved, I will tell you everything—just please take me away to your kingdom so we can be together."

"For a kiss." He leaned towards her. "Anything you ask of me for a kiss."

* * *

><p>Anna collapsed onto the couch in the library. Her sister's hermitage became her sanctuary from the Southern Prince.<p>

Prince Stig's charming veneer had begun to wear thin after only one day—the man was as pompous and as boring as his clothes were rich; he was practically a nuisance. She felt more like a babysitter than an escort.

No matter where she went, he appeared with compliments and pick-up lines, there was hardly an ounce of real conversation since the man entered the castle!

"Princess Anna—"

She stifled an agonized groan as she peeked over the couch back. She took a deep breath and injected as much pep as she could. "Prince! I had thought you'd be in your room resting after the horse ride this afternoon—dinner shouldn't be for another hour."

"The room is a delight, but pales in comparison to you, fair princess."

'Ugh, gag me.' It took an inordinate amount of effort not to roll her eyes.

"I must ask, do forgive me; if your sister will be joining us for supper? I don't intend to give offense, but I am curious if it customary to make a guest wait for a day and a half before seeing them?"

"Uh—"Anna was at a loss. Kristoff had left the castle directly after they started the castle tour the day before; and there were few excuses she could possibly give for Elsa's whereabouts short of total ignorance.

"I'm really not sure where she is; she was supposed to be here by now. I'm sure she'll be done with her business any time now." Anna smiled sheepishly. It was a fine line dancing between a lie and the truth.

"Ah, forgive my impertinence. It is of course, the Queen's prerogative to run her affairs. I was merely curious. I shall depart for you to rest before supper and I'll take a small nap as customary in my country. Till we meet again, fair maiden."

Prince Stig knelt and kissed her hand.

Anna watched him all but skip out of the library with a stunned sense of disbelief. That guy was unbelievable!

All she could do was hope Kristoff would return by dinner, or she could come up with a really, really good excuse within an hour. What a tough spot…


	6. Chapter 6: Silent Something

For the first few months, it was everything Freja could have wished for, asked for. She spent most of her days engrossed in learning about human culture and reading their recorded words in the castle library. Evenings were spent with her prince, and in all her joy and as the wedding planning began to commence, there never seemed to be time to sit Randolf down for a conversation about her origins.

It wasn't until a few weeks before the wedding, as the kingdom began to make preparations for their new queen-to-be that the paradise Freja lived in began to crumble. It began slowly, a night or two with debilitating headaches, sensitivity to sunlight and an unusual moodiness. By the next week, the headaches kept her mostly secluded to her room with the curtains drawn. A concerned Randolf was allowed admittance once, and then as her condition worsened, only a handmaiden was allowed in to relay wedding planning and take medicine to Freja.

What no one could know, was the changes Freja was suffering behind her locked door— the dangerous process of going through withdrawal of the powers that had sustained her all of her life. The pain and sickness was warping her fragile body into something, someone else. It was a secret that would not last for long.

* * *

><p>Elsa's eyelashes fluttered against wet cheeks, and as she became aware of her own body and reality, something bright pulsed against her eyelids, she was wrapped in something warm- rough cloth muffling her mouth. She pushed back weakly, gasping for fresh air against the pain and fear that had enveloped her within the world of the diary.<p>

"I'm so sorry." Warm breath tickled her ear and she forced her eyes open, realizing the warmth around her belonged to a person.

The bright light around her were refracting ice crystals. The bed she had woken up on in the monastery was now a glistening frozen block. Cold hung in the air, puffs of warmth exhaled in front of her from Francis, the young monk whose arms were holding her up.

"Wha—"her voice was cracked, dry… the effort to form a sentence through her fuzzy mind proved too difficult.

"I'm so sorry, your majesty; I should have pulled you out sooner… I didn't realize how much it would affect you. I never would have subjected you to that if I had known-"

"There is so much…" Elsa trembled with the overwhelming emotions that didn't belong to her. "Pain, fear… what—"

"Please don't push yourself, milady." Francis pulled her into his shoulder. "You need to rest. Just calm your thoughts. Let it go."

"I-I'm sorry about the bed; I can replace that…" she leaned weakly against the monk, unable to even lift her head.

Did she really want to know anything more about that poor girl? All the effort to answer questions only lead to more questions… would she ever get a straight answer? Maybe there was no cure, nothing she could do to rid her family of the curse, after all…

* * *

><p>As the young queen's breathing evened and deepened, Francis could feel her relax in his arms and the ice surrounding them began to recede. He prayed she would fall deeply asleep quickly, despite the fluttering pace of his heart in her ear. Without thought, he had leapt forward to catch her as she collapsed when Freja's pain came through the magical link of the diary, and now the awkwardness of their frozen position was too obvious for comfort.<p>

As soon as he could move his legs numbed by the cold, he pulled her off the soggy mattress and carried her over to Master Belgr's chair. He quickly rekindled the fire and pulled a musty blanket from the closet to wrap up in. He plopped down in front of the fireplace, his back to the warmth. In his rush of concern, he hadn't realized how cold it had gotten—and his cloak was soaked. Still, he leaned on his knee, watching the light dance across her pale, calm features, he couldn't help but wonder—

"Francis, my boy." Grand Master Abbot Belgr swooped into the room with the Abbey physician. "How fares the queen? Are you hurt?"

Francis snapped to attention, but his legs did not cooperate with the 'get up!' command, so he toppled helplessly on his side.

"Shhh!" he hissed. "She's asleep!"

"Aaaahhh—"Master Belgr examined her sleeping form, checking the pulse in her wrist. "It was too much for her, then. I was afraid of that."

The physician kneeled to check Francis. He felt his temperature and then pulled up his robe just enough to properly examine his ankles.

"Frostbite." The physician clucked, pulling Francis upright. "Sit here, I'll go fetch what I need."

"What about the queen—"

"She's fine." Master Belgr smiled. "She's fast asleep, but she's fine."

"Thank goodness." Francis sank against the mantle.

"Still." Master Belgr waited until the physician left the room. "I am surprised by her reaction to the same flow of magic that binds her curse."

"It was different." Francis shut his eyes, taking a moment to breathe and calm his own thoughts. "Carrying her into the fairy-script dream illusion made it so much different than last time."

"Different?" he could almost hear the Abbot's brow furrow. "Different, how?"

"It was like…" Francis remember the sensation, through the cold, of her fragile frame leaning on his. Under all that cold, under all that power, there was a warm, frightened girl in pain. It was that which had driven him to be so inappropriate and hold her… just to give some comfort, however small. "She resonated with… no, it was like she became Freja. The emotions, everything was more intense, as if it was happening to her; not just being observed."

"She… became Freja?"

"There was little discernable difference between her conscience and Freja." Francis frowned, opening his eyes. "Is that… normal?"

"No." Master Belgr's expression was tight with concern. "No, my dear Francis. I have never heard of such a thing."

Francis watched Elsa sleep for a moment. "Yet, she's so different… she's nothing like Freja; how could she feel her emotions so acutely?"

"I wonder…" Master Belgr muttered as he began to thumb through the books on his shelf. "Is this a design in Alva's script?"

"It was written to make her sympathize with Freja?"

"No—empathize with Freja." Master Belgr tapped his chin thoughtfully. "It's like, Alva wanted someone, some specific person, to understand her daughter… but why?"

Francis was mesmerized by the glow of the fire turning Elsa's pale hair into spun gold. "Master… I never got much further than this in the diary—I worry for her majesty if we were to try to go back in…. you sad the tale is terribly sad. How does it end?"

"You are right to be afraid for her." Master Abbot Belgr pulled an old healing book from the shelf. "However, if she is determined to break the curse, she must be able to endure it. You cannot protect her from her own will, Francis. She will need someone trustworthy to help her through. Are you up for the challenge, or should I guide her the rest of the way?"

Francis glanced to his mentor, chewing his lip. "I want to see it through to the end, Master."

"Very good, then." Master Belgr smiled gently. "You've done well so far, my boy. The young queen could not ask for a better guide."

* * *

><p>Anna paced through the palace courtyard. She was running out of time; and lying had never, ever been her strong suit…<p>

"Anna!" Olaf skirted through the cypress border, his snow cloud struggling to keep up with him.

"Olaf!" Anna hissed. "What are you doing out here? You're supposed to keep out of si—"

"Kristoff's back!" Olaf skidded to a stop in front of her, giddy as always.

"Kristoff's back?!" she glanced around. "Where is he; did he find Elsa?"

"I'm not supposed to say anything, just come and get you." Olaf gently pulled her hand. "C'mon, he's in the stables!"

"Let's go!" Anna wound up pulling the adorable snowman along as she began a ferverent run.

All she could hope was that he had found Elsa, and she was all right… but why the secrecy? Why the stables—nothing to worry about, he must have a good reason, she'd just have to see what was going on.

She rounded the corner to see Sven peering into the far stall.

"Sven!"

The reindeer glanced her way and gave some happy barks, prancing around as she approached.

"Easy, easy!" Anna laughed, rubbing his muzzle. "I'm happy to see you too! Where's Kristoff—where's Elsa?"

"I couldn't find her." The sound of his voice was tired, and Anna noticed the layered dust from two days of hard riding as Kristoff meandered out from the corner of the stall.

"Kristoff—"Anna rushed to him, eager to help, but he held his hand out to her, collapsing into the fresh hay with a sigh of utter exhaustion.

"Oh—Oh…" Anna knelt beside him, unsure of what to say.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you. I really did try."

Anna winced. "No, thank you Kristoff… it's all a mess. I'm so grateful you went to look for her, but I guess it can't be helped…"

"I did find something out there." He took a swig out of his canteen. "I thought you would want to see…. I'm not quite sure what to make of it myself."

A low groan travelled up from the stall. Kristoff pushed off the ground and Anna followed him into the darkness of the stable, curious. Something moved in the hay when Kristoff got near, and he bent down, offering his canteen. A pair of tan, polished yet dirty feet poked out of the pile of hay and she could barely hear a deep, murmuring voice from where Kristoff knelt. Had he brought home a vagabond—

"Oh." The voice was a bit clearer, and Kristoff motioned her forward. "Thank you, kind stranger."

"I brought someone to see you." Kristoff shifted so she could see the man on the floor.

She gasped in horror and shock as Prince Stig Rusul Sala weakly smiled up at her from the hay bale, his face flushed and bruised… and most certainly as dirty and disheveled as he was nude.

"Pardon my appearance;" the same voice that had raked her nerves only an hour ago now seemed gentler, smoother, despite its parched tone. "I am Prince—"

Anna quickly knelt, taking the canteen from Kristoff and helping the poor man drink. "Shush, it's all right. I know who you are. Rest up sir, I'll fetch a doctor immediately."

Prince Stig drank greedily and then gasped for air. "Thank you madam. Your hospitality warms my heart."

"I'm Princess Anna. We'll take good care of you."

Exhausted, his head fell back and his weary eyes closed. Anna stared at him with utter terrified amazement until his breathing slowed to almost nonexistent.

"He's asleep…. We need to get the doctor." Kristoff whispered.

"Yes—where did you find him?!"

"On the East road, this morning. He was half dead under a bush. I think someone robbed him, best I can figure. He's feverish and that's the most lucid I've seen him since I found him."

"This morning…. That's impossible—"Anna blinked slowly. If this was really Prince Stig…Then who was in the palace?!


	7. Chapter 7: Never Trust a Mirror

Elsa came to, the light of a crackling fire forcing her to avert her eyes.

"Ahh, how do you feel, your majesty?"

Grand Master Abbot Belgr leaned forward from the bed, which had been stripped of linens and flipped over. "Bright, I hope?"

Elsa laughed, rubbing her eyes. "Well, the fire is—but no, I feel fine. How long was I asleep?"

"About half an hour."

"Where's Francis?"

Master Belgr grinned. "There." He motioned to the other side of the fireplace, where the young monk was slumped against the wall in an old blanket, quietly sleeping.

"Oh." Elsa smiled.

She climbed out of the chair and tip toed over to the sleeping monk, laying her blanket across his tranquil frame. In the semi-dark of the room, the fire light played ruby strings across his brown hair.

"We'll let him rest a bit longer; would you care to join me for supper?" the old monk slid from the stripped mattress.

"I have many questions." Elsa stood. "What I caught a glimpse off—I wonder, is the curse my family bears…. Fae magic?"

"Before I answer;" Master Belgr held open the door for her. "I have a question of my own for you, my young queen."

Elsa glanced into his eyes that reflected like deep silver pools. "Yes?"

"Has Freja's pain broken your resolve—or will you still venture into that world and unlock the curse's source?"

"Face that girl's pain again?" Elsa glanced at her hands, though they trembled at the thought, she did not fear for herself; but the young monk… what would happen if she couldn't control her powers again in that state?

"My resolve has not weakened… but… I will not risk anyone but myself in this quest, Grand Master Abbot. If you can guarantee the young monk's safety—I will dive in again as soon as we are able. Time is invaluable right now. I need the answers I seek."

Those old, wise eyes pierced her, and then Master Belgr smiled, gently taking her hand. "I admire the courage you've found, my dear… yes, I can guarantee my young squire's safety. You need not worry for him. You'll need all of your strength to withstand the pull of Freja's will…"

He escorted her down the stairs. "To answer your question about the curse… it is not of fae origin, but something darker… something forbidden drives the curse that afflicts your family—but I cannot tell you more than this, not yet."

* * *

><p>Anna took a deep breath as she entered the grand hall. It would be difficult… but she'd been through worse. She needed time. Time for Kristoff to get Prince Stig to safety and find Elsa while she dealt with this imposter…<p>

Her mind turned back to the stable as she took her seat at the dining table.

_"__Are you sure about this?" Kristoff searched her eyes. "That imposter could be dangerous—"_

_"__I think it'd be more dangerous to expose him without having any idea of what's going on… we need to buy more time!"_

_"__All right, and the monastery… are you sure Elsa's there?"_

_"__It's the only thing that makes sense. I've rattled my brain for nearly two days; and it was right around the time that I gave her that message with the monastery seal that she took off—so maybe…"_

_Kristoff sighed. "In any case, it may be the safest place for the prince to recover... so I'll go."_

_He grasped her shoulders firmly. "But promise me, Anna… promise me you won't do anything reckless until I get back!"_

_Her heart swelled with pride and trust for him. "I promise."_

Now, with little concept on how she was going to deliver on that promise, she was to face the imposter and lie her butt off while Kristoff and Sven tore through the mountains to the Fjord Monastery in the Eastern mountains. Elsa just had to be there, she must be there…

"My lady!" the (fake) Prince Stig swooped in, taking her hand and kissing it.

"Oh, so good to see you rested!" she smiled. "Please, take a seat—we have a splendid feast prepared for our special guest tonight!"

"Glorious—all though all the splendor in the world cannot squelch my excitement to meet the beautiful Queen of this land."

"Ahh….." Anna waited for him to sit down. "About that…. I'm afraid I have bad news, prince."

She cleared her throat, taking up the most congenial and consoling expression she could muster under the circumstances. "My sister Elsa has come down with a rather unsightly case of the flu; probably from overworking herself—so again, I must ask for your patience and apologize for her absence."

"Ah." The Prince stroked his goatee pensively. "This is indeed, tragic news. I had hoped… but alas! It should not ruin our evening! Please give your sister my sincerest condolences and well-wishing for a speedy recovery! I shall write my castle tonight to let them know I'll be extending my stay, it is not a problem."

"Oh, thank you!" Anna forced a large smile. "I knew you'd understand! As soon as Elsa's better, I know she'll want to meet you right away!"

"A toast!" Prince Stig raised his glass. "To pleasant company and good health!"

"Indeed." Anna raised her glass.

She could only keep up this charade for maybe a day, that didn't give Kristoff much time… but it would have to be enough. She would have to start taking measures to better protect Arendelle, in case this man became hostile in Elsa's absence…

* * *

><p>After dinner, Prince Stig was escorted back to his room. Once inside, he quietly locked the door and listened against the wood until he was sure he was alone. The view from his balcony was of the Arendelle harbor… a magnificent view, by all accounts—but not one that he was much interested in at the moment. He drew the curtains closed and dimmed the oil lamp on the nightstand; then made his way to the full-length mirror in the room.<p>

The first night he'd taken the trouble of inscribing the characters his mistress had made him memorize, and now it was time to utilize this old magic… he bit into the palm of his left hand until it bled, and smeared it down the line of characters. The glass began to hum and vibrate as its reflective surface distorted.

The darkness of the room in the mirror faded out to a green glow.

_"__Speak." _The mirror hummed._ "Give me a command."_

"I wish to speak with my mistress, by the western sea."

"_Granted._" The mirror's hum darkened into a sound not unlike moaning, and the green glow sharpened into images of the sea—shifting and contorting into different scenes until a dark figure was revealed by the green light.

_"__Ah, I was beginning to wonder…" _the figure came toward the mirror. "_When I was going to hear from you, my pet. Has she declared her oath of love to you?_"

"My lady." He kneeled on one knee. "The Queen has been absent; and I think her little sister is stalling…. She either doesn't know her sister's whereabouts or my disguise has been compromised."

"_You can't tell?_" a thread of irritation entered her silken voice. "_Why are you pandering to a girl of no consequence when I sent you there for the Queen of Arendelle?_"

"My apologies." He bowed his head. "I was trying to remain inconspicuous, as you ordered."

"_Hmmmm…_" she gave a discontented sigh as she drew her nails across the mirror, green electricity following her caress. "_It seems that this plan will require some flexibility—if you are unable to deliver my gift to an absentee bride; then we'll have to do with the daughter of Arendelle we have available—and I will find Elsa; It'll be so much more satisfying that way… yessssssssssssssssssssssssss… I think that will do nicely_."

"As you wish." He nodded.

"_Oh, and crow—good work. Your reward will be great_."

The mirror went dark, but the pride inside his chest was as warm as the absent magical glow. Things were finally getting interesting…


	8. Chapter 8: Love is Just a Word

Prince Randolf found Freja in the palace gardens at midnight. She had taken great care in picking out a gown and a cloak that would properly hide herself from her love until she could explain… how could she?

"I-I'm glad you got my message." She forced a smile, though he could not see it.

"My darling, what is wrong?" concern laced every word. "I haven't seen you in weeks, have you changed your mind about marrying me? Do you no longer love me, dear heart?"

"N-No!" she cried. "Never… but I have been ill… and I fear this illness will make you change your mind about marrying me. In truth, this is why I haven't seen you—I…. I couldn't bear your rejection."

She took a seat on the nearby bench. "I put it off too long; I was too happy to find time tell you… but now I must, and exasperated by my condition… oh, Randolf! I'm so scared!"

"You have nothing to fear." Randolf took her gloved hand. "Tell me what's wrong; we'll work through it together."

She sniffed, trying to hold back the tears and calm herself. "I… I was abandoned as a baby… I was raised by the fae, their court lies within the forest where we met, my love. It was my dearest wish that my mother, Alva, would bless our marriage and everything would have been revealed then; but she did not, and we eloped… I thought little of it, but now—"

"Wait." He frowned. "You were raised by the fae?"

"Yes, the Queen of Summer, Alva, is my mother. Do you know of her my darling?"

"Dear God." Randolf's hand slipped from hers. "Would that you have told me sooner… my father has explicitly outlawed magic and there is such a strong prejudice against sorcerers…"

"I am no sorceress!" Freja protested. "I know no spells, I had not yet started my training in fae magic—I'm a human girl, Randolf. Like any other…"

"How can you be?" he stood. "Raised by fairies… how can you be a normal human girl like any other? Do you not know how their magic twists nature? My dear heart, this is difficult to accept. Why would you keep this secret from me?"

"I did not mean to keep it secret!" Freja felt hurt by his turn of mood. "Why do you turn from me and talk to me as though I have committed some crime?! I had no control over what happened to me as an infant—why should that matter when we love each other. I apologized for not telling you sooner—"

"What is this illness that afflicts you, then? Is it something magical?"

She bit her lip. For the first time in her life she was tempted to lie, her fears of losing Randolf seemed so real, worse than her nightmares the past few weeks. If she said no, would this be overlooked, or would he hate her for lying? It was such a strange, unnatural thought to lie to him, but something inside was shrieking not to tell him about the sickness, even if it meant her death.

"Freja, my love." He once again sat next to her on the bench. "I do not fault you for circumstances beyond your control. Believe in me, please. Tell me the truth. The illness that has kept you from me—is it because of the fae? Can my doctor help you?"

"I…" the tears began to fall, her resolve crumbling. "I don't know! I don't know what's wrong with me… I long for the forest, so… oh, Randolf... I hardly recognize myself in the mirror, and I can hardly breathe… the air around the castle is so thick… sometimes I feel like everyone in it is whispering at once and my head begins to ache… then it hurts so bad, like someone is hammering a nail into my temples-I can't take it anymore! Please, please, my love, help me!"

"Take off your cloak, dear heart; let me see how bad it is."

"N-No." She sniffed, trying to vainly wipe away the tears. "That's something I cannot do. My reflection frightens me so… I don't think you could bear to look at me. Please, have the doctor examine me. If he can fix me, then we can marry and put this whole sickness at our backs."

Randolf was silent for a few moments. Scared, she looked up at him, doing her best to still keep her face hidden in the shadow of her cowl. She saw it, for only an instant before his face broke into a reassuring smile, but it sent a shiver of cold down her spine. The hard look of his eyes, a calculating, pensive expression… one that she should have never glimpsed on the face of her beloved.

"You need your rest, my darling. I will send my best physician first thing in the morning to examine you. I'm sure he'll be able to heal you and we'll be married in a fortnight."

_A lie._

"Meanwhile, I will talk to my father—"

_No, you said he hates anything to do with magic!_

"—and let him know we're postponing our nuptials until you are better."

"Will…" her mouth was suddenly dry. "Will he still bless our marriage when he knows who I am, where I come from?"

"You shouldn't concern yourself with such things, my love. I'll take care of everything with my father. Please, take care of yourself so you can be well again."

He stood and bowed. "I will visit you for luncheon after your exam tomorrow. "Good night, Freja."

She sat in stunned silence as he walked away. Not even a kiss on the hand as a farewell…

Something dark and foreboding twisted in her chest, some inkling of what was to come stirred in her brain, but not yet coherent enough of a thought to make a difference.

* * *

><p>Elsa gasped for air, her chest clenched painfully. It felt like someone had reached into her rib cage and was squeezing her heart.<p>

"Your majesty!" Francis reached for her, but she slapped his hand away.

"I'm fine." She croaked, clutching her chest.

"That's enough for now." Grand Master Abbot Belgr observed. "It's time for lunch in the kitchens. We can take an hour."

Elsa nodded as the pain began to fade enough to catch her breath. She had only felt heart break that deep once, when she thought Anna dead, and she had absolutely no desire to feel it again, especially vicariously. If this Prince Randolf rejected Freja… something told her that's exactly how it would play out, but it still left the mystery of the curse and how it was related to the diary. Master Belgr had been forthright that the curse was not fae magic, so it couldn't be some retaliation from Alva… but then why was this all magically recorded inside of a book by her?

With a frustrated sigh, she stood up. Which was a motion she immediately regretted when the world slanted and grew dark.

"Milady?" Francis caught her, and this time she didn't deny his help, but slumped against him gratefully.

"I'm sorry, I stood up too quickly."

"Just take a moment to let your body fully recover." He held her loosely.

"You must have a sorted opinion of me." She laughed.

"Hmm?"

"I mean, I'm always falling all over the place. I must seem very weak to you."

"I… I think quite the opposite of you, your highness. You're strong and determined, if not very familiar or used to withstanding deep magic. I find you courageous, and I'm honored to offer my strength to you… if there is something weak in you, it's that you don't let anyone help—"

She started to laugh. A deep, cleansing laugh. In two days, this monk understood more about her than anyone, and he said so, so earnestly. All she could do was laugh.

"Did I say something funny?" he blinked, confused.

"No, no… I'm sorry." She gently pushed him away. "You said that so honestly, I just—it's kind of a relief. Thank you."

"You're welcome?"

"Let's go to lunch." She offered her arm. "Care to escort me down the stairs?"

"Uh… sure—I mean, yes Your Majesty!"

"Elsa." She smiled. "You can just call me Elsa, Francis."

A blush heated his cheeks as he took her arm and led her down the stairs.

"Ah, youth." Master Belgr sniffed, placing the leather journal back on the shelf.

* * *

><p>Kristoff urged Sven onward. "Faster, Sven!"<p>

They had made good time, only stopping for a couple hours during the night. The sun was almost at its highest and they'd just crossed the foothills. The reindeer was doing his best, pulling the small cart with two people. Kristoff glanced at the wrapped cocoon of a prince in the back. Damn, but he looked pale. He'd have a hard time forgiving himself if the man died in his care.

This whole thing stank, and he couldn't put his finger on what it was, exactly that bothered him the most. Was it that they had no idea why someone would masquerade as Prince Stick, or if that was the real one and he was trying to save an imposter, or that Elsa just ran off willy-nilly whenever she wanted- or —that he had left Anna alone with a suspicious man who may be hatching a nefarious plot… probably the last one. Grandpoppy would know what to do… Kristoff firmly believed that his family knew more about humans than humans did sometimes.

They crested the first ridge, and Kristoff could barely make out a dark geometric shade on the side of the next mountain over.

"Almost here!" he cried with relief.

Sven snorted in tired agreement.

* * *

><p>Elsa laid on the bed on Master Belgr's orders, and he placed his hands on Francis' shoulders. Francis glanced at the book in his lap, then gazed into the turquoise depths of the queen's eyes. He chewed his lip. If Master Belgr was acting as a stabilizer—this dive was going to be really, really rough. He had little concern for himself, but the pain the queen—Elsa, felt at every turn, it hurt him to watch her struggle.<p>

Some part of him realized he was over-concerned for her well-being, but he couldn't seem to help himself when she was near. He wanted to touch her, comfort her, and keep her safe. He almost protested going in again, but she laid her hand across his resting on the diary.

"I'm ready." She said resolutely, her eyes not wavering from his.

"Are… Are you sure?"

Her fingers gently squeezed his, and his heart leapt. With his free hand, he pulled the book open, clearing his mind in preparation to read the letters beginning to form.

"Wait—"She said. He glanced up to meet her eyes again. "This time, don't pull me out. No matter what happens. I'm ready to finish it."

A gentle squeeze on his shoulder from Master Belgr was both comforting and discouraged him from protesting.

"Let's begin." He swallowed, gently squeezing her hand in return. This deep feeling that begun after her arrival, so different than what the diary showed him—yet he was beginning to recognize the similarities, and it scared him almost as much as the thought of losing her to the ghost of Freja.


	9. Chapter 9: Vain Broken Heart

The pain was intense. Freja collapsed on the floor of her bedroom. It had been days… days since she had seen Randolf. Tears streamed down her face, from both the physical and emotional pain. She could not go on like this, she would die… why had Randolf not come to see her? Why had he cancelled their lunch? Was what the doctor found… was she contagious?

She used the last ounce of her strength to reach the door. "H—help…" she groaned. Another shock of pain shot up her spine and she shrieked. "HELP!"

No footsteps echoing through the corridor, no shouts of concern. There was silence, save her labored breaths.

"R… Randolf..." she sobbed against the wood.

"Freja, daughter of Alva." A familiar voice and the smell of the forest surrounded her.

"Seph—Seph, is that you?"

She turned her aching head, vision blurring. The fae stood on the windowsill, blue hair whipping in the wind.

"I've sworn on my life to protect you; you must return home."

"I—I can't." Freja slid down the door to the floor. "I must see Randolf. I love him Seph; I love him dearly… you cannot take me away!"

"Freja, my darling girl…" Sephera knelt beside her. "Your Prince has forsaken you, you must know this by now. The illness twisting you apart… I've sworn to my Queen to keep it a secret; but perhaps if you know, I may be able to save you."

"Know?" her head was fuzzy. She was so weak... so weak….

"Here." Sephera handed her a piece of ambrosia.

She couldn't manage to even grasp the golden piece of flesh that had sustained her for years.

Sephera sensed it, and instead, placed the sweet fruit to her lips. She managed to take a small bite, it did not require chewing, which she was grateful for. She felt like she could take another bite, and another, until the sliver was gone.

"There." Sephera smiled. "Let that take its course. It won't stop the illness, but it should help you find strength to travel. Listen to me closely, sweet girl. The ambrosia we fae consume was never meant for humans. When Alva found you, we did everything proper for your care- goats milk, dandelion greens… but one day, when you were three, I found you under the table biting into a piece of ambrosia. Ordinarily this would have cursed your blood, and in adult humans we must seal them away in the dark forest as they degenerate into monsters… but you… you absorbed our magic like a sponge.

Alva took this as a sign, and from that day forward we treated you no different from our own, all the while suspecting what it would mean if you were to leave the forest—Freja, ambrosia is your lifeblood, as it is ours. To leave the forest is a death sentence; and that's why your mother did not bless the marriage. You cannot be with a human, child…. Because you no longer are one."

Sephera pulled a scrap of broken mirror from the floor. "Even if they couldn't see it before, they can now."

Shakily, Freja took the mirror in her hand and looked upon herself for the first time in over a week. Her emerald green eyes had yellowed, and her pupils narrowed as a cat's. Her angular features were starker in greenish skin, and two elk-like horns twisted above her pointed ears.

"No…" her lips began to tremble, renewed energy coursing through her body, allowing her to feel utter despair.

She screamed until her voice ran dry.

* * *

><p>Alva sauntered into the Arendelle throne room in a wisp of gold dust.<p>

"You called?"

King Aolgeir stopped mid-pace. "Thank you for coming."

He was a large man, not yet deprived of the pride of his youth, but the greying of his beard and the thinning of his hair betraying his aging. The last time Alva had laid eyes upon him, he'd been but a boy… his father before him was a regular guest at her court, but that was another time—when she thought humans could be more than what they were.

"It seems we have a problem, Lady Fae."

"Do we?"

"Your daughter is in love with my son."

"Dear Aolgeir, love must run both ways for it to be 'our' problem."

"Bah! It doesn't matter if they're in love; children make many stupid decisions… the point is, the wars taught us many things, not the least of which is not to trust magical beings. No offense, Queen of summer… but I cannot see a fae child sitting the throne of my hall. Take her back to where she comes from."

"I… see."

"Do you? I know as well as anyone you could use your trickery to brainwash me, sing a pretty song to make me change my mind… but you cannot sway the minds of the people; and the people will not allow a witch-queen. Not again."

"Insult me a third time, sir, and I will no longer consider this visit congenial."

"My apologies, fair queen; I do not have my head. I meant no disrespect—it's just… madness! Absolute madness and I have no time to turn my mind to it, not with the trade talks going south with Florins."

"Yes, I had heard… how fares my daughter?"

"The palace physician, he can be trusted—he says she's gravely ill and may be irreversibly altered by fae magic. There's nothing we can do now. We cannot keep it a secret much longer. If you do not take her home, I cannot protect her."

"I will ask, King Aolgier—only once, does your son love my daughter? I'm sure we can find a peaceful resolution to this if they are truly in love. You shall owe me no debt, and I shall give my word that she will be as 'normal' as pleases you."

"Randolf understands the weight of the crown. He was the one who told me the girl's secret, as soon as he learnt it. Poor lad. He did care for her, but he will not risk it."

"A practical fool. Very well, I will take my daughter from here, and you will be responsible for yourselves."

She turned on her heel.

"Wait—"

Alva glanced back.

"The girl—is she a fae or a witch?"

"It does not matter what she is. If Freja is not good enough for you; you shan't have her."

Alva twisted her magic ring, disappearing from the throne room and manifesting in the palace garden before the boy she recognized as Freja's love interest.

He started, falling off the bench.

"I am Alva, Queen of Summer, mother to the human girl Freja."

"Randolf, Prince of Arendelle." He stood, dusting himself off.

"Your father summoned me to resolve the case of my daughter, who has become ill from leaving the forest we call home. I wish to ask you a question, young prince: When she leaves this place, will you pursue her?"

"No." he shook his head. "You may take her, madam."

"A young lad who sought a pretty face and demure heart to satisfy his lust for the throne stands before me, then. I am disappointed. Know this, young prince, when you break a woman's heart… there is no power on earth that may save you. I have glimpsed through the eye of fate, and I know what dark path you have set my daughter down; so when the time comes… I will not again be summoned to this place. I shall never enter these halls again nor act on your benefit."

With that, she twisted her ring again to return home.

* * *

><p>Francis struggled to keep Elsa's mind from straying as Freja mourned the loss of her love. It became increasingly difficult after her return home, where nothing could reach through the dark haze of depression around her. Elsa was almost completely synced with the forlorn girl. He struggled to stay in the diary's illusion, resisting a strong urge to once again pull out of the illusion to let the young queen return to herself.<p>

He felt a light wisp of second magic that gently pried Elsa's conscious from Freja, and for the briefest moment Francis saw the young queen's memories that were synonymous with Freja's—isolation, loneliness, sadness… the fear, so much fear about what she was. He blinked, refocusing on the diary and the moment past. The second wisp wrapped around himself and Elsa like a cushion from the diary's magic, and he recognized Master Belgr's energy. Confused, he continued to read the fae-script. Wasn't the worst over? Why was the Master Abbot working to stabilize them now?

* * *

><p>Freja wandered the woods. The musty smell of the earth called to her as the trees were sacrificing their green for gold. Nothing about the colors or sounds of the forest reached her, everything was a grey fog. She meandered aimlessly. It was clear to her by now that Randolf was not coming for her. Her love had abandoned her. Fresh tears streamed out of her raw eyes. She was a hideous, twisted monster without love… what joy in life was there left?<p>

She came upon a small lagoon on the edge of the dark forest. None of the fae ever entered the dark forest, but Sephera had said that's where monsters belonged, so it was tempting to step into the dark, gnarled forest and live out her pitiful existence with the misshapen creatures that inhabited it… but the call of the lagoon was stronger. Drowning could be so much like falling asleep…. And all the suffering would be over…

She stepped into the black water, her foot sinking into the mud. She walked forward, her mind blank as she thought of his face, the melodious sound of his voice—and the expression on his face the last night she ever saw him; the expression she was never meant to see…

"Child."

She paused, the water up to her waist.

"Child…"

A cold shiver ran up her spine. There was something so wrong in that voice. It hovered in the air like a bird of prey, waiting to strike.

"Are you lost, daughter of the fae?"

A distinctly female head bobbed up from the water a few feet in front of her. The creature's eyes were as black as the water, and her hair was a stringy green mass that resembles seaweed.

"I am not lost." Freja barely felt the terror making her body tremble. "I have no reason to live."

"Death is what you seek here?" The head quirked an eyebrow. "What a foolish child! Why would someone so young, charged with the power of youth, wish to die?"

"I have nothing to live for." She answered dully. "The man I loved hates what I have become… and so do I. I'd rather have his heart than my life."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." The head lifted above the water, revealing a pale, thin human body barely covered by scraps of cloth. "I see. Well, that is a tragedy! Yes, yes, but you need not kill yourself to end your suffering—you must merely kill your heart."

"What do you mean?"

The creature cackled. "Yes, I can feel your power. If you no longer want your life, I will take it, my dear. I will show you deep, old magic that not even your fae keepers know. Power beyond imagination. You foolishly threw your heart away on a human boy; now, give it to someone who knows what to do with it."

She extended a thin hand with sharp nails, licking her lips. "Make your choice quickly, dearie. I can feel the power of fae coming closer—you're being searched for."

"This magic you know… will I be able to get my Randolf back with it?"

"If you so choose… but I doubt you'll want him back once you learn the secrets I know… I can promise, when you kill your heart and open yourself to the old magic, you will feel no more pain."

"No more pain…" Freja stared at the wrinkling hand extended towards her. "In exchange, you only want my heart?"

"Yes, that's right dearie. You have the word of Sigyn, Witch of the Lagoon."

Freja took the witch's hand, and the waters of the lagoon swallowed them both.


	10. Chapter 10: Solar Eclipse

Arendelle was abuzz with excitement. The new queen had given birth to a healthy, happy baby boy! Everyone was invited to the castle for a large feast of honor. King Randolf himself sent out the royal heralds to spread the word. It was such a big event, even Queen Alva heard of it from her sequestered grove. She had lost a lot of her light since Freja disappeared nearly a year ago, and the news brought her no joy. Despite that, by Sephera's urging, she took on a disguise and attended the event with her loyal consort.

The throne room was packed with nobility and peasants alike. Alva took her place among them, unnoticed with her fae charms hidden. She had not elected to alter her appearance, she had little stamina for the effort… hiding her magic would be enough to fool any untalented human. From her vantage, she could see the proud father in his best dress, wedding ring gleaming on his finger. A pang of disappointment once again ran through her as she thought of how the sight would've affected Freja.

The New Queen was announced, and everyone turned to watch her stroll down the aisle. Cheeks flushed as she cuddled her child. She was a pretty, mousey thing… not a candle next to Freja's striking features and lithe beauty. Despite her thoughts, Alva could not hold a grudge against the young couple… for humans were, after all, foolish creatures… and she'd long ago accepted that they would always disappoint her. Her only remorse was that her daughter deserved to be the happy queen, and instead… Alva shook her head. She mustn't lose hope.

When the queen reached the end of the throne room, she lovingly lay the child in a bassinet and took her seat next to her husband's throne. A page read off a small speech on behalf of King Randolf and Queen Pura; then closed with a request for gifts. A line formed of guests ready to shower their new prince with the boons of their wealth—or support their new prince with what they could offer. In the past, Alva would've blessed the child, but her promise to the young king over a year ago held her to her place.

"I've seen enough." She whispered to Sephera who had disguised herself as a pale servant. "Let us return to the forest."

As she turned to leave, a maniacal cackling filled the room, and the light of day dimmed. Alva paused, recognizing a dark energy beginning to create a pressure in the room. People started whispering and glancing around as the laughter grew louder.

"My Queen—"Sephera threw a cleansing shield around them as the room grew darker.

"I had heard…" a silken, dark voice that caressed the evil feelings of the soul reverberated through the room. "That an open invitation had been issued for such a momentous occasion, so do forgive my interruption, but I could not resist."

A dark figure manifested in a cloud of smoke before the King and Queen.

Alva narrowed her eyes as she saw a familiar greenish orb floating around the cloaked woman.

"A witch!" Sephera hissed. "Queen Alva, we must retreat—"

"Who are you?!" King Randolf stood, outraged.

"Don't you recognize me?" the figure hissed, sliding up next to the steps of the throne. "Am I such a stranger to you now?"

"Stay back!" Randolf threw his arm up to shield his wife. "Go back to where you came from, creature!"

The witch clucked. "Such poor manners… after I came all this way to see you again, and to offer my congratulations. Let me see the child. I shall bestow a gift on him for you."

"Stay away from my baby!" Queen Pura stepped in front of the bassinet. "I won't let you hurt him!"

The figure began to cackle. "Hurt him? Foolish woman! The infant is nothing to me—but you try my patience. If you insist on being such ungracious hosts, I will be forced to be an unpleasant guest… and I'd prefer if we keep things amicable, hmm?"

"Very well…" Randolf placed a reassuring hand on Pura's shoulder. "We apologize. Thank you for coming, please take care of your business here and go."

The witch ceased cackling. "So cold, dear Randolf… but that is all right. It makes my gift all the more fitting. Here…"

She waved a delicate hand and a red box appeared in front of the king. He hesitated for only a moment, then reached out and took the box.

"Go ahead." The dark figure purred. "Open it."

"No!" Alva pushed past the crowd. "Your majesty, do not open it!"

Sephera joined her. "Please don't! Nothing good ever comes from a witch—"

The figure spun around, yellow eyes burning with fury. "Who dares?!"

"Fre….Freja." Alva's world crumbled around her as she recognized her own daughter through the contorted features of the creature before her.

"Ah." Freja's expression fell. "Queen of summer… and Sephera. I am surprised to see you."

"Freja…." Sephera shook her head. "What have you done…?"

"Freja…" Randolf stared at the imposing dark creature. "What… what happened to you?"

"Do not pretend to care now." A humorless, sharp grin spread across her face. "It's too late, now. I have overcome what your love twisted me into. I learned the dark ways, the old ways that built the foundation of magic… and now I have more strength, more power than that mulling quim of a woman you claimed to love could have ever grasped."

She turned from him, swirling her fingers in the swirl of the orb orbiting her. "In truth, I should thank you… because of you I have become greater, stronger. So please, open my gift. It is something I gave you long ago—but perhaps it's better this way, easier to receive?"

She began to chuckle as he glanced at the box in his hands.

Pura sobbed. "Randolf, no—listen to the fae queen; don't open that box. It's something evil, I know it."

"Open it." Freja's eyes began to glow again.

"Fine." Randolf rested his hand on top of the box. "I shall open your gift—if I have your word you'll leave as soon as I do."

"All right." She hissed, a grin returning. "You have my word."

King Randolf took a deep breath, and flipped open the lock on the box. As he began to lift the lid, a blue haze escaped its confines within the box. As soon as she saw it, Alva leapt to her feet to stop him; but the young queen was faster. She shoved Randolf with her entire body as he opened the box, and a flash of blue light filled the room.

Alva blinked the spots from her eyes, and the first thing she saw was the content of the box laying at the king's feet. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as a wave of nausea filled her.

Freja—or rather, the creature that was a pale ghost of Freja's beauty, once again began to laugh maliciously. As everyone recovered and the blue-lit fog faded, the full scope of her intentions were made clear: Queen Pura stood in a fixed pose, shielding her face with her hands in a futile effort to shield herself from the magic—a solid ice block figure frozen in time.

"Pura!" King Randolf scrambled to his feet to touch his wife's face, steam escaping his fingertips as they pressed to her icy cheek.

"No…" Sephera trembled. "No…. how could you, Freja?!" she grabbed the object that had paralyzed Alva and thrust it at the witch. "You cut out your own heart?!"

"It's not Freja, anymore." The witch smiled calmly. "I am now Maleficent… and you'd do well to remember my name."

In a wisp of green smoke, she exited the room much as she had entered it—a phantom inside the vibrations of crazed laughter.

Alva shut her eyes, fighting back tears. She had known the darkness that had taken ahold of her daughter, but she never thought- her dear, sweet girl had been seduced by the witch of the lagoon… all this time… and rather than face the pain of living, had chosen to give herself over to the dark arts by sacrificing the most important part of herself—her heart, her soul. It was true that creature was, and yet no longer really her daughter.

"Queen Alva." A trembling male voice called to her from far away. "Please, please… help Pura. I know what you promised about helping me; but I beg you… Pura had nothing to do with it! Save her… please."

The King fell to his knees in front of her. "Please, save her."

Sephera helped Alva to stand. "The spell is too strong… my queen has been weakened by the loss of her daughter. I am sorry, young king. There is nothing we can do."

As if understanding the loss of his mother, the infant prince began to wail, the only sound that carried through the hall.

"Sephera…. Fetch me my daughter's diary."

"What?" her consort glanced at her. "My Queen…. Are you sure?!"

"I am." She took off her magic ring and handed it to Sephera. "Bring me the diary and a piece of ambrosia."

"Milady, your promise… you said you would never help the young King—"

"I know the bounds of my word, Sephera. I break no oath by saving the woman. Now, follow my command."

Sephera jolted as if she had been stung, a hurt expression on her face. "A-As you wish, your highness."

She twisted the ring and disappeared.

Alva released the spell that kept her power hidden, and her radiance returned the throne room to daylight. As the pressure of evil was released, she took a deep breath and focused on the frozen queen. It was, in fact, a very powerful spell… one she could not break. It was filled with all the pain, loneliness… and hate, her daughter had felt before she removed her heart. It was a sleeping death that no one could ever wake from.

Sephera re-appeared with the diary and a piece of ambrosia, as ordered.

Alva graciously accepted the meal, and then directed Sephera to place her daughter's journal and heart back into the box by Queen Pura.

"Now, King Randolf, I must ask you for something difficult… if you wish to save the life of your beloved, you must share in whatever magic remains… for it is the only way I can save her. By redistributing the power released by the witch's spell, I can save her life… but I cannot promise anything more. The spell will dissolve into a curse, but how strong or how it shall affect you and yours, only time will tell. If you wish me to do this, please pick up your son and stand with her."

Without a word, hardly a hesitation, he stepped over to the bassinet and picked up his only son, taking his place next to his wife.

"Very well." Alva closed her eyes and channeled everything she felt into the box and diary at their feet. Everything… everything… and as the heart of her daughter began to beat inside its cage, the queen began to thaw and the infant grew pale as snow.

"This is all I can do; this is all that I have."

Ava collapsed into the arms of Sephera, and the luminesce of her power began to fade.

"My Queen!" Sephera sobbed as the glow of Alva's skin paled and her hair became brittle.

"It is the oldest of magic," Alva felt her life beginning to seep into the objects, flowing to seal their power. "Do not cry for me, Sephera. I have known the deepest love, and I have no regrets."

"You shouldn't have had to sacrifice yourself for this!" Sephera squeezed her shoulders, her tears dampening Alva's pale cheek.

"Oh, Sephera… a mother would do anything… for her child… In truth, how could I leave a babe without its mother? Be strong, I know you will be. Someday, all of this will return to you, and you must be ready."

Alva looked away at her consort, gazing into the patterned light streaming through the stained glass window of the throne room. "To you, who have read this history, I end it here. This is the final moment of Alva of the Fae. Seek out the Fae court to undo what has been done this day… but I must also bear a warning: to finish what she started, Maleficent will surely return."

* * *

><p>Anna entered the gardens, trying her best to look pleasant. The false Prince Stig's sudden idea of hosting a brunch had made her very uneasy, but it would distract him for at least a half a day—so she would play along. Despite her determination, she almost gave herself away as she screamed when two hands covered her eyes.<p>

"Oh! I didn't mean to scare you, dear princess!" the hands flew away and Anna spun to meet her suspicious guest.

"Oh!" she tried to regain her composure and quell the urge to punch him in the face. "Sorry! I, er, startle easily!"

"A thousand apologies!" he dropped to one knee and began to kiss her hand. "I shall not frighten you so again, my lady! Please, join me for brunch! I have taken great pains to bring the cuisine of my homeland to you, today."

"How thoughtful." She slipped her hand away and backed up. "I'm so grateful that you would think of something so sweet."

"It's the least I can do for my beautiful and gracious host. Come!" he escorted her to a richly decorated table neck to the rose bushes.

Even Anna had to admit, he'd brilliantly coordinated with the kitchen staff to present an exotic array of dishes. For a moment, she doubted her intuition. This "prince"—gaudy and boring as he was—had shown no signs of malice, and seemed to have an encyclopedic knowledge of Prince Stig's culture.

Yet… she couldn't bring herself to trust him, and with another person—too weak and bruised to be faking it showing up to claim that they were the real prince—her gut won over the temporary lapse in conviction. Until Elsa returned, Anna must assume this was not the real prince and keep the guards on alert. She didn't have to fake her interest in the food, however, as many of the dishes were colorful and rich with spices.

"How do you like my cooking?" Prince Stig joked.

"I'm amazed that our chefs were able to recreate your homeland dishes so well!" she took a big bite of something made from a purple squash layered with tomato sauce. "Are they close to being authentic?"

The prince smiled. "There had to be many substitutions with the spices—but a fair comparison to the real thing, I assure you."

"This is awesome!" she ladled more of a creamy sauce made from beans on her plate.

"Well, the food is grand." Prince Stig wiped his mustache and stood up. "But until you've tried my country's prized wine, all else pales in comparison."

He sauntered to her end of the table with a purple glass bottle in hand.

Her mouth was too full to protest as he poured some into the empty crystal goblet by her plate.

"It's especially a fine way to chase the flavors of the meal before dessert. Please, take a sip and tell me what you think."

Anna swallowed her food and reached for the goblet. "You have dessert with brunch? What an odd custom."

Prince Stig grinned and shrugged. "We believe every labour deserves its just reward."

"What an odd way of putting it." Anna swirled the wine, breathing in intoxicating fruity hints and a deeper, earthier tone she couldn't quite identify.

"I hope you like it." Prince Stig set down the bottle. "It's a one-of-a-kind blend."

"What kind of wine is it?" Anna took another sniff, the aromas even more tempting. "It doesn't smell like anything I've had before…. Though we get most of our wines from the West."

"Try it, and I'll let you guess." He leaned on the table.

Curiosity getting the best of her, she took a small sip. The wine flowed smoothly, too delicious for such a small sip—so she took another, then a bigger sip, and then a large gulp that drained the goblet.

"Wow!" she exclaimed, wiping her mouth. "That was really good—I can't believe I drank the whole goblet."

"It's the taste." Prince Stig smirked. "It's designed to compel the drinker to ingest it all, to maximize the wine's effects."

Puzzled, Anna set down the crystal goblet. "Wait… what effects?"

Fear began to creep up her spine, and she pushed her chair back. "What… what was in that wine?"

"Calm down, princess." Prince Stig gingerly stepped towards her, hands reaching out.

"N-No…" she backed away, her mind feeling fuzzy. "Wh-what was in that wine?!"

Fuzziness broke into full-on dizziness and the world began to spin. "You—what have you done?"

The Prince still advanced towards her, and Anna struggled to crawl away as her limbs became numb, she tried to call for the guards, but only a weak gasp of air came out. "P-poison!"

"Hardly." A strong, silken voice cut through the wine's effects.

Anna lifted her heavy head, bewildered by the black shoes standing in front of her face. The shoes peeped from under a black robe, and the robe ended at a sharp, pale face with dark purple lips and yellow, hellish eyes. With a scream that sounded more like a squeak, Anna tried to push backwards, right into the embrace of the fake prince.

"I have no need to kill you, daughter of Arendelle." The face came closer, sharp white teeth beneath the moving lips. "The wine is merely… a persuasion."

Anna tried to concentrate, to fight off the call of sleep. "Per…persua—for what?"

"Oh, my dear," the sentence was a long, drawn out sigh. "You're going to help me dispose of your sister, and surrender your kingdom to my rule. I've been in the shadows for far too long… it's time for me to take my rightful place again, as Queen of Arendelle."

"You're insane!" Anna's vision began to blur. "I-I'll never help you!"

"Oh, you will. The potion you just drank will ensure your loyalty… and you _will_ deliver your kingdom to me."

"Elsa…" Anna's eyelids were so heavy… "Elsa… will… stop you…"

"Your sister will have little power against me." The dark voice began to chuckle. "After all, how can she defeat the source of her power?"

"Sleep now." She heard the voice of Prince Stig, so far away… and then everything went dark.


	11. Chapter 11: As the Owl Flies

Elsa opened her eyes, for the briefest of moments she thought she was still in the diary when she saw the vaulted ceiling above her, but it was quickly replaced by the recognition of the thatched roof above the rafters. Suppressing a groan, she rolled over under the covers. Everything ached, and the movement started a low pounding in her temples. She shut her eyes, the images of everything that she had learned floating across her mind's eye.

It was a lot to take in, but now that she was free from the emotions involved, she could reflect upon it quietly. The tragic figure of Freja was too familiar, she very well could have wound up a monster had she lost Anna- but it was the love of Freja's mother that had saved Elsa's ancestors, much in the way Anna had saved her... yet, this was inevitably the source of the curse; and the power running through her veins was proof that an act of true love was simply not enough to lift it.

'What more can be done?' Elsa wondered, feeling the weight of hopelessness once again press on her heart. 'If not even Alva could reverse Freja's- no, Maleficent's, spell when it was new- how can I hope to lift the curse now?'

The shuffle of paper got her attention, and she warily opened one eye to see who was in the room with her. Francis' hunched profile near the fire place was a welcome sight. In the semi-dark of the room, his nose was practically inside the book he was trying to read. He leaned back and shuffled forward a few pages, then he dove back in.

Elsa watched him for a few moments, trying to place a warm feeling that came over her. With Francis, she felt safe. She wanted to know more about him, why he'd come to study at the Monastery... how he could read the magical book that had brought her to this place- overall, he was still a mystery to her- this bookish, slightly clumsy, brave young man that had held her hand through this entire experience. She found herself mesmerized by his profile, wondering what he thought of her.

As if he could sense being watched, he glanced up from the book and turned his head her way. Embarrassed by her thoughts, Elsa quickly looked away and lightly coughed.

"Elsa, you're awake!" excitement leapt into his features and he uncurled from the chair, grabbing a tankard from the desk.

"Here's some water, I'm sure you're thirsty- you've been asleep a while."

She wasn't surprised to find she was thirsty after he mentioned it, and graciously accepted the offered drink.

"How do you feel?" he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, a familiar position from the past few days.

"Like I've caught in raging rapids and lived to tell the tale." Elsa answered honestly. "Everything aches, my head is pounding- and I'm not sure what to do now, Francis."

She looked down into the tankard, the dark water reflecting fractals of light.

"I came here to find answers about the origin of the curse... and I have- but what I thought would lead me to a cure has only presented me with the possibility of a longer journey... and has not done much to bolster my hope of ending the curse once and for all. If anything, I'm less sure now that it can be done than three days ago."

Francis took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Would it... would it be so bad if the curse could not be lifted? You've learned how to control the powers of ice; knowledge you could pass down through to future generations."

"No." Elsa sighed. "No, it's not enough. I don't want this to continue; to have anyone else know the pain and isolation that the curse can bring... I have to end it."

Francis was silent for a moment. "I-I have been doing some research while you were resting. I think I've figured out a few things from what Alva tried to show us through the diary- and what you've told me about your powers. To me, it seems like all of this magic is deeply connected to the feelings of the user. Fear and anger great negative curses, yet love, the deeper, the more powerful... is a fighting force for those emotions. The secret to controlling Fae magic, seems to be in the ability to control one's emotions... I think that may be the real reason Freja did what she did... in removing her heart, she removed any chance love could save her... and by delivering the curse in the way she did- inadvertently she may have given us a way to break it."

"Really?" Elsa leaned forward. "You really think so?"

Francis glanced away. "It's only a theory... something Alva said, but... there's a big problem if I'm right."

"What do you mean?"

"I think Maleficent may somehow be crucial to removing the curse- Alva alluded a lot in her final moments to that... but according to my research, she's... well, she's been dead for 50 years."

"What?" Elsa gasped. "No... How could that be? If you're right, then-"

The door burst open, a large figure barrelled into the room with shouts from the monks ringing behind him. Elsa nearly jumped out of the bed when she recognized Kristoff's frantic face.

"Queen Elsa!" Kristoff fell to the floor in a less-than-graceful kneel. "I rode all night, day- you have to return at once!"

Elsa's heart leapt to her throat. "What, what is it? What's wrong?! Is it Anna-"

"Anna's fine." he took in a deep breath. "At least I think so- I'll explain on the way; but you need to come home, now."

Her fingers slipped from Francis' and she climbed out of the bed, her legs barely willing to support her.

"Elsa!" both men gasped simultaneously as they moved, but it was Kristoff that caught her.

"I'm fine." she smiled in weak reassurance at him.

She glanced back to Francis. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

"But milady, in your condition-"

She waved off Francis' valid concern. "It's my sister."

He sat back down on the bed, a swirl of emotions playing in his green eyes. "Then go, your highness. Safe journey."

"Francis-" she wanted to reassure him somehow that she'd return quickly, that she wanted to finish her quest with him by her side, but Kristoff lifted her up and quickly turned, blocking her view. They were out the door before she could utter a farewell, and she could feel her chest contract, a pain unfamiliar and frightening at the thought of leaving him.

Frost began to form at her fingertips as Kristoff sped down the stairs. It was a miracle he didn't fall or drop her at his speed.

He glanced down as her fingers clutched his tunic. Misinterpreting her fear, he reassured her again that Anna should be okay.

Startled, Elsa let go of the fabric as he ran. "Please! Please tell me what the emergency is, Kristoff."

He bowled through a group of startled monks, heading not for the gate- but for the infirmary.

"Your Prince arrived early." he huffed.

She blinked, trying to make sense of his words as her fingers thawed.

"Only he's an imposter- Anna's with him."

Elsa frowned, trying to process what he was trying to say. "I don't understand, what-"

"Here." he set her down gently, supporting her with his shoulder. "I don't know how to tell you properly; but I think Anna's in danger."

"You said she was fine!" Elsa wanted to scream. He'd shown up a mess, ran her around the courtyard like someone was dying, and for what?!

"I'm not going anywhere until you explain what's going on, Kristoff."

"A thousand apologies, madame." a rough, weak voice can from inside the infirmary room. "This is my fault."

Elsa turned from Kristoff, her irritation immediately dissipated at the sight of the bandaged man on the bed a few feet away.

"Are you-" she gasped in horror. "Prince Stig Rusul Sala?"

* * *

><p>Francis stared at his hand, he could almost feel the warmth of hers... true, it had only been a few days, and there's no way she would have ever stayed- part of him had always known that this was more of a fantasy than anything... but that didn't make it hurt any less.<p>

"Ah, my dear boy, there you are." Grand Master Belgr sat down on the bed next to him. "Our uninvited guests have created quite the stir- I daresay, the monastery can't contain much more excitement."

"Guests?" Francis glanced at the old abbot. "Oh yes, it seems the ice-fellow has brought the Queen's betrothed into the infirmary. I gathered some details, but- dear me, are you all right Francis? You look like someone just told you your puppy died."

Betrothed... Elsa's fiancée was in the abbey? Elsa was engaged?!

"Francis?" Master Belgr frowned. "Oh my. I thought as much. You've grown rather fond of our young queen, haven't you?"

"I'm sorry." Francis flinched. "I swear, I haven't forgotten my duty as a monk, it's just... it's just..."

He glanced down at his bandaged ankle, the truth caught in his throat. He'd barely admitted it to himself, how could he tell the abbot? "I wanted to help her... I would gladly do anything to ease her pain. She should be happy. Even if... even if I never see her again... she should be happy. That's all, master."

"I see..." Belgr stroked his beard. "Well, if that's the case- there is only one thing to do."

Francis sighed. "What is that?"

"You should nurse the southern prince back to health!"

"What?!" Francis fell of the bed in shock. Was the abbot punishing him, after all- and to decree such a cruel command! Was there no mercy at all in those old bones?

'What, indeed." The abbot coughed. "If you truly care for her happiness- shouldn't you see what kind of man he is?"

Francis blinked. Was... was he serious? Did Master Belgr really want him to measure a prince's worth? It wouldn't matter what kind of man he was... they were already betrothed. Why should Francis torment himself anymore?

"Master, please... delve me any punishment you see fit for my lapse in concentration... but do not ask this of me."

"I'm not asking, Francis. Tend to the prince."

His heart fell to his chest, and his feet were too heavy to move. Without a word, Francis stood and forced his body to move forward, an agonizing step at a time to the door.

"Francis- one more thing." the harsh commanding tenor had left his master's voice, replaced by something akin to pity. "Try to keep up spirits, my boy. I will personally see to the research into the Queen's Curse."

Francis felt some relief. "Thank you, Master."

It did not, however, make his descent down the stairs any easier.

* * *

><p>Elsa sat on the edge of the bed, still absorbing the Prince's tale. Kristoff gently shook her shoulder.<p>

"Elsa, we need to return to the palace. Anna's waiting."

"Yes." she nodded. "I know."

Her sister was alone with an imposter prince with unknown intentions- but Anna was strong. It was just as likely that she would have the fiend jailed by the time they got back than anything nefarious to happen. Still, it was all very strange and puzzling.

"May I just say," Prince Stig reached for her hand, and he brushed his lips across her palm. It was a gentle caress that sent a shiver up her spine.

"It has been a pleasure meeting you, Elsa of Arendelle. I look forward to being able to court you properly."

She could feel the heat on her cheeks, but didn't know what to say. She could still see a pair of green eyes swirling with pain that tugged her heart.

"Rest well, Prince." she removed her hand and nodded at Kristoff, who gently picked her up.

The prince smiled from his bed, a handsome smile as any. "Now that I have seen you, I am sure that we will be very happy together. I will aim to make you see that too before we marry."

She wasn't sure how to respond, she still wasn't sure she wanted to marry this man. The strange situation of his arrival had definitely not relieved any anxiety she had about it. Before she could reply, Francis entered the infirmary, looking as miserable as she felt.

"Francis!" she wanted to run to him, but her body still was not cooperating, so she had to wait for Kristoff to turn so she could properly face the young monk. He was staring at her like she was a ghost.

"M-Milady, I thought you had left-"

"Kristoff thought I should see Prince Stig-"

"Oh." they both fell silent.

After an awkward moment, Kristoff cleared his throat. "So yeah... we'll be going now... kingdom to save, and all that good stuff..."

"Yes," Elsa rallied herself. "Yes, we were just leaving. Please take care of yourself, Francis... and..." the word almost caught in her throat, jammed together with all the thoughts that she couldn't express. "Farewell."

Kristoff moved towards the door, and she ignored the curious glances he shot her as they exited.

"Wait-!"

She turned in Kristoff's arms, and he slowed down.

"Elsa-" Francis took a deep breath. "Elsa... Grand Master Abbot Belgr has promised to do all he can about what you came here for. He'll find your answers, and we'll meet again, I know it."

"Francis." her heart fluttered. He was promising to see her again; and she hadn't realized until now, that was exactly what she wanted to hear. "Farewell, dear monk. I'll hold you to your word."

With another clearing of his throat, Kristoff pushed forward, and Francis disappeared around the wooden door jam.

As they made their way through the courtyard, Elsa slumped against him, completely exhausted.

"So... want to tell me what that was about... or why you're so drain you can't walk... or really, any explanation about what's happened since you ran away from the castle?"

He gently set her down as Sven bounded up to them and kneeled for mounting.

"I didn't run away." she protested indignantly as they climbed up on the reindeer's back.

"Took a mini-vacation, then?" he snapped the reins and Sven shot off like a crossbow bolt through the monastery gate.

"It was your idea." Elsa mumbled. "You said they might have answers here... so I came to find them."

"I swear." he shook his head. "Sometimes you and your sister are just alike."

"Anna..." she gave a silent prayer. "Please be all right. I'm coming home."


End file.
